To Hell and Back Again
by Tay-21
Summary: SLASH!  Started as fluff, but turned dark and violent.  Contains OC's, torture, violence, off screen non-con and then fluff.  If that's not your thing, then don't read.  This is kind of different for me, so read it or not.  Your choice.  You were warned.


**A/N: So last week I went into a discussion group over on Primeval Denial just to poke around and comment on other people's stuff, and I got push, prodded, poked, and arm-twisted until I wrote something of my own... So, here's my first attempt at slash. It was supposed to be a fluff story, but it rapidly grew a plot and got all dark and violent on me. I'm just going to consider this a one-shot crack-fic. I hope you like it, please review.**

**WARNING: This story contains slash, violence, torture, and off-screen references to non-con. If that is not your thing, then don't read it.**

******Disclaimer**: Primeval and its characters belong to Impossible Pictures. No copyright infringement is intended. Thomson belongs to Deinonychus_1 over on Live Journal; Ditzy and Jon Lyle belong to Fredbassett also over on live journal. 

**To Hell and Back Again**

OK then. I'm borrowing a few characters. Thomson belongs to Deinonychus_1, and Ditzy and Lyle belong to Fredbassett.

Connor struggled to piece together what had happened to end up with him, naked and suspended by his wrists, blindfolded and gagged. If he stretched he could just manage to push up on his toes enough to relieve the pressure on his arms, shoulders, and back. While he hung there, Connor tried to think back over recent events.

He had been hacking through files about Thomson and looking for information on the illusive Section 42. Connor was close; he knew it. His eyes burned from staring at the computer screen for so long. It was well after midnight and the ARC was already down to a skeleton staff. He needed a break. Maybe some fresh air would do him good. He got up and headed for the exit. He glanced up and smirked at the last security camera on his way out the door. He went for a short walk, but the whole while he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck prickling, as if someone was watching him. With a feeling of unease, Connor made his way back to the ARC. As he turned the last corner, three black-clad, hooded figures stepped out of the dark shadows. He tried to run, but tripped. A hand was clamped over his mouth and another pulled at his hair while an arm around his neck cut off the air to his lungs. Connor's vision blurred then began to go dark. The blackness spread from the edges of his vision inward until there was nothing.

The room was cold, and the shivers running through his body caused his muscles to spasm. The door opened and several men came in. Connor hung as limply as possible. He didn't want to give anything away, or give them the satisfaction of knowing that he was terrified and weak.

"Do you know why you're here?" _Damn it!_ The voice was Thomson's. Connor mumbled a response into the tape over his mouth, shaking his head to indicate no. _He had to try, right?_ The tape was torn from his mouth and he couldn't stop the cry that came out with it. He sucked air into his lungs. He'd never really realised just how satisfying it was to breathe through his mouth.

"I don't know anything. You've got the wrong guy."

"You are Connor Temple, assistant team leader on the Anomaly Project, designer of the anomaly detector, and head technician, are you not?"

"Yes," Connor stated weakly. "What do you want?"

"Well, for starters, let's not have anymore nonsense about you being the 'wrong guy'."

"Well, while we're on this 'no more nonsense' tack, let's put all the cards on the table. Take the blindfold off, Thomson, I know it's you."

"You may know me, but I'm guessing you'd have a harder time working out which of my other men are helping me on this little mission."

_Damn!_ Connor thought. He'd really hoped that would work_._ He hung his head lower, feigning weakness.

"Give me the access codes for the ARC's security mainframe."

"No."

"I was hoping you would say that."

A fist sunk deep into his ribs. Connor felt, and heard, at least one crack and gasped for air while his lungs expelled it in a cry of agony. Things only got worse after that.

That was how it had started. Connor knew his situation was hopeless. No one knew where he was and, for all anyone at the ARC knew, he had simply gone home. He hadn't talked to anyone on his way out. He'd thought he was just going right back, he hadn't seen the need.

Connor was now curled up in the corner of the cell at the Section 42 headquarters where that bastard Thomson had thrown him after beating the crap out of him, torturing him, and worse. Connor had out-smarted him though. He'd played the weak civilian card and Thomson had underestimated him. After just four hours, according to what he'd overheard from Thomson, he'd tossed him in the cell to let him rest for a while. Now, he was naked, cold, afraid and in pain. His wrists were cable-tied behind him so tight that they bled freely with the tiniest of movements. The tape had been replaced over the raw, bleeding skin of his mouth, and the blindfold had been re-secured over his eyes.

The door bust open and Connor trembled, curling further in on himself and whimpering. He instinctively pressed himself further back into the corner, trembling violently. He could hear shouting. Thomson and another voice farther down the hall.

"Come any closer and I shoot him in the head right now." _Thompson_. Connor heard the distinct noise of the slide on a pistol being racked. He couldn't help it, he whimpered.

"Shut up you!" Thomson's voice was directed at Connor now. There was a loud crack of gunfire, followed immediately by another shot that Connor heard ping of the wall just above his head. There was a thud, and then he heard the other voice again.

"Oh, Jesus, damn it! Connor?"

Someone touched him and he flinched away. His ears were ringing painfully from the loud gun report in the small space.

A hand reached out and gently pulled the tape away from his mouth. A small whimper escaped him as his lips started bleeding again.

"No, please, not yet. I don't know anything. Don't hurt me anymore. Please."

The bonds on his wrists were cut and Connor lifted his arm up over his head, "No, please, don't hurt me."

"Connor, it's me. It's Ryan." Ryan pulled the blindfold off and Connor winced at the light streaming in from the doorway.

Connor finally looked up through heavily squinting eyes at the dark-clad figure in front of him. Terror played across his expression until he registered the voice and face of the man in front of him.

"Tom? What are you doing here? Did they get you too? What's happening?"

Connor trembled while Ryan raked his eyes across Connors bare, bloody and bruised body. Connor looked down and saw that every mark - from fist imprints and lash marks to the lacerations where the restraints had been on his wrists and ankles – were visible. He could feel the tape residue still clinging to the red and raw skin of his face.

Connor looked up through another violent tremor as Ryan took off his jacket and wrapped it around him.

"That bastard went too far this time. We came to get you. No one messes with one of our own," Ryan said gently as he caressed Connor's cheek. Connor flinched involuntarily at his touch. Ryan pulled back a little, his expression clouding just a fraction at Connor's reaction. Connor reminded himself that it was captain Ryan here with him now and Ryan wouldn't hurt him. Connor shifted a bit closer to where Ryan knelt in front of him while radioing his location to Ditzy and Lyle who were helping to mop up the rest of the rogue organisation known as Section 42. "It turns out that Section 42 have been operating off book and illegally for some time now. You were on the verge of working it out, but somehow Thomson found out. That was his true motivation. He wanted to delete all your logs." Ryan calmly explained everything to Connor as they waited for the others to get to them.

"I didn't tell him anything, Ryan. He never got what he wanted out of me."

"I know, Conn. You did a really great job. Better even than some of the SAS would have done." Ryan smiled warmly down at him, his hand still on Connor's cheek. His eyes seemed overly bright all of a sudden.

"I thought you'd never find me," Connor sobbed. "I thought I was going to die here. I was so scared I'd never see you or the others again."

Ryan pulled him into his arms and held him gently.

"I promised you I'd protect you. I'm sorry I failed you when you needed it most."

"No! You found me. Deep down I knew you would. I hoped you would. Thinking of you was what kept me from breaking. I didn't want to disappoint you."

Ryan rocked Connor gently. "Connor, you could never disappoint me." Connor felt a soft kiss being pressed to the top of his head. "It'll be OK now. I promise. Thomson's never going to hurt you again."

"He's Section 42, how can you be sure?"

"Two reasons: First, Section 42 is about to have a lot to answer for, and secondly, I put a bullet in his head just a few minutes ago when he almost shot you. " Ryan indicated the hole in the concrete wall just centimetres above where Connor's head had been. Connor glanced from the mark in the wall to dead body lying in the doorway. He had been so wrapped up in what Ryan had been telling him he hadn't noticed it. Plus, it was lying in the bright light of the doorway and it still hurt to look at the light too much.

Before Connor could fully wrap his brain around what Ryan had just told him, Ditzy and Lyle arrived. The medic was at his side in a moment checking for injuries beyond the surface bruises while Lyle guarded the door and radioed for a stretcher and a room to be prepared in the ARC medical bay.

Two hours later, Connor was heavily sedated and finally sleeping on the small hospital bed in the ARC medical bay. He had started vomiting almost as soon as he realized he was safe and at the ARC. It was as if he needed to purge his system of everything that had happened. Ryan sat on the bed next to him running his hands through Connor's hair and looking up at Ditzy and Lyle.

"How bad, Ditzy? I need to know."

"I'm not sure he'd want you to, boss," Ditzy replied.

"I'm the head of security for this facility. Connor's safety and wellbeing are my responsibility. I don't care what he wants, I want what's best for him. He's going to have a long recovery both physically and psychologically. I need to know so I know what to expect. So tell me, **how bad**?"

Lyle and Ditzy exchanged a glance, but Ditzy clearly did not want to answer his commanding officer.

"Tom, are you sure you really want to know?" Lyle interjected.

"Will you two stop trying to mother me! I have to know." He turned his glare back on Ditzy. "Am I going to have to make it an order?"

Connor whimpered a little in his sleep and Ryan leaned down and kissed his forehead. "Shh, it's OK, Conn. You're safe. Shh." Connor curled into him and Ryan continued to stroke his hair. Ryan looked pointedly back at Ditzy, still waiting.

"Fine!" Ditzy finally answered. "As you saw for yourself, he was beaten quite badly with bare fists and, as far as I can tell, with an electrical chord. That would account for the broken ribs and the lash marks." Ditzy halted.

"What else?" Ryan prompted.

"There are numerous electrical burns all over his body. Every sensitive area you can imagine shows evidence of this. If Connor is correct in his time estimates, then Thomson packed an awful lot into those few hours." Ditzy's gaze became nervous again and he couldn't hold Ryan's eye.

"What are you not telling me Ditz?"

Ditzy still didn't speak.

"Was he… did they… rape him?" He could hardly ask the question even though he could guess the answer. All Ditzy could do was nod his head in affirmation and stare down at the floor. Ryan knew they all felt terrible at not having been able to protect Connor. He was the lifeline of the team. "Damn it! If I hadn't already shot and killed that rat bastard I shoot him now. How bad was it?"

"Not as bad as it could have been. He wasn't torn, though I can't figure out why not unless they…" Ditzy stopped, clearly not wanting to go further.

"Unless they what?"

"Well, there's evidence that they may have… used his… mouth… first." He mumbled something further about swabs and multiple assaults, but Ryan wasn't listening anymore.

Ryan's breathing hitched. He wanted to kill someone. He felt absolutely no satisfaction at having already killed Thomson. A bullet to the head hadn't been good enough. He wanted more, but he wasn't going to get it. He felt empty inside. He was horrified by what they had done to Connor. How the hell was Connor ever going to get through this? Would Connor still want him? Had Connor actually ever wanted him at all, or had Ryan completely misread the signals between them for the last few months? Ryan kept seeing the bright little smirk Connor had given the security cameras as he'd left the ARC two nights ago. _Had it only been less than 48 hours? Would he ever see that smile again?_

He leaned down again and pressed his cheek against Connor's hair. If this was all he ever got, he'd have to be happy with it. Ryan had said he wanted what was best for Connor. He'd stand by that. He would. He reached out and took Connor's hand in his, running his thumb over the thick bandage around his wrist.

"If it's any consolation, it seems he put up one hell of a fight if the state of his wrists and ankles is anything to be believed," Ditzy said softly.

"We'll leave you alone with him," Lyle said grabbing Ditzy and pulling him out of the small examination room in the infirmary that would be Connor's safe haven while he recuperated.

Connor had made good strides towards recovery in the past two weeks and was finally being allowed home.

As Connor prepared to leave, Ryan cleared his throat from the doorway behind him. Connor turned to him and a broad dimpled grin stretched across his young face. "Hero of the hour. What's up?"

"I was wondering if you wanted to come over for a bit?" Ryan hoped that hadn't sounded as awkward as he felt.

"Um, I'd love to, but I'm supposed to watch Star Wars with Abby. Ditzy says I've got to rest." Connor seemed genuinely disappointed.

"Oh, uh, sure, that's fine." Ryan didn't want to push him too soon. Ditzy had told him it might take a while and that Connor would need to do things at his own pace. Connor was seeing a therapist and seemed to be handling things well psychologically, all things considered.

"No it isn't," a female voice called from the other side of the doorway, just behind Ryan. _Abby_. "You two have been dancing around each other for months now, and I'll not be the cause of any more of it. Connor, do you really think that I want to see Star Wars **again** that badly? Here, I came prepared." She handed the DVD over to Ryan. "Connor, I'll see you next week if you're ready to come back to light-duty work, and not a day before!" She smiled knowingly at him, turned on her heels and left.

"Well, I guess I'm homeless," Connor remarked, not looking particularly concerned by the thought.

Ryan reached his arm out and drew Connor into a tight embrace, "No you're not. You're coming home with me." Ryan pressed a kiss to the younger man's temple.

Connor shivered and melted into his touch. "Take me home?" he asked quietly.

"Come on, then."

Connor sat on Ryan's couch on a pile of pillows with blankets tucked all around him. Ryan had fed him a hearty stew and he was comfortable, full, and warm. His eyes drooped heavily at the fading refrains of the Imperial March. He was still on heavy painkillers.

Ryan leaned over him and brushed the hair from his face and gently kissed his forehead. Connor stirred and his big brown puppy eyes stared up at Ryan.

"Come on, Connor. I think you've had enough Star Wars. We can finish tomorrow. Time for bed."

Connor pouted. "I don't want to get up; I'm all cozy." He wriggled further down into the blankets and pillows.

"Ditzy said I have to take care of you properly, and you're not sleeping on the couch."

"But you've only got one bed. I'm not going to put you out."

"Who said anything about me not sleeping in my own bed?" Ryan quirked an eyebrow at Connor. "If it's OK with you?"

Connor's eyes widened into saucers as Ryan's meaning sunk in. "Oh. I guess that would be cool." Connor couldn't help the grin that spread across his face, or the red flush that crept in there as well.

"Am I making you blush Connor?" Ryan asked playfully.

"No," Connor huffed. "I'm just really warm."

"Well, I can fix that." Ryan pulled the blankets back at lightning speed.

"Hey!" Connor pulled his legs up. He was only wearing a tee-shirt, boxers, and turquoise socks. Connor stubbornly curled up on the couch still unwilling to move from the warm spot.

"Oh, it's going to be like that is it?" smiled Ryan, a playful lilt to his voice. He reached down and scooped Connor up into his arms. Connor squawked at being manhandled, and out of shear fear of being dropped, wrapped his arms around Ryan's neck.

Ryan was bare-chested and only wearing a pair of loose-fitting light blue pyjama pants. Connor found himself curling into Ryan's strong, protective shoulders. Ryan had risked everything for him. He had gone to look for him in the pit of hell itself and had brought him out of it. Connor had liked him enough before all this, but now… now he was fairly certain that he loved him.

Ryan gently laid him down on his big soft bed and Connor reluctantly released his grip from around Ryan's neck. Ryan grabbed his hand as it slid off his shoulder. "Did you really think I would drop you, or hurt you in any way?"

"No, but..." Ryan stopped him with a kiss, gentle at first and then growing to be more demanding.

Connor responded with all the repressed desires he'd been holding back for the captain all these months.

"I love you," Connor panted as he broke off the kiss.

"I love you too, Conn. I just didn't think you'd want someone like me."

"God, I've wanted you for a long time, I just thought you wouldn't want me."

"Well, aren't we a pair? It takes you getting tortured and almost killed for us to be honest with ourselves."

Connor's eyes widened and grew moist at the mention of his time as Thomson's prisoner. "Don't, please don't. I'm not ready to deal with all that yet. There are still things they did to me that I haven't even told the therapist about yet. Please, I don't want to talk about it."

"Hey, it's OK. We don't have to. Not until you want to, OK?"

"OK. Just... kiss me again?"

"Definitely!" And he did. But, as Ryan's tongue slipped past his lips, panic overwhelmed Connor. His eyes flew open, he gasped and yanked away from Ryan panting heavily with a terrified expression on his face. For just a split second Connor was back in that room with Thomson and his men.

Ryan pulled a way and held his hands up in surrender, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that. That was really stupid."

Connor looked quizzically at him and for a moment wondered just how much Ryan knew before he decided that he didn't care because he still didn't want to have that conversation yet. "No, it's my fault. I panicked. Sorry. I'm just… not used to that. And well, recent events… may have… put me off my game a little." He gave Ryan a weak smile that didn't go very deep.

Ryan smiled back at him. "It's OK, Conn. We'll take it slow. I'm not going anywhere, and if it's up to me, neither are you."

Connor nodded, reassured. "I don't want to go anywhere else, Tom. I feel safe here, with you. I love you, but I'm just… scared. Not of you, but everything else."

"That's to be expected. I'm scared too. I don't ever want to see what… I'm sorry. We won't talk about it anymore tonight. Deal?"

"Deal! Now could you please shut up and kiss me again? I'd really like to give that another try." Connor grinned. A grin much more genuine than the one from a few minutes before.

"Cheeky little bugger, aren't you?" Ryan kissed him again, slower this time, demanding nothing just letting Connor take control.

Connor wrapped his arms around Ryan's neck and pulled him closer. And when Connor's tongue slipped past Ryan's lips there was no panic or sudden flashbacks, not this time anyway. They finally broke apart when Connor suddenly felt a little light-headed.

"I believe you were supposed to be going to bed?" Ryan scolded.

"Stay with me?"

"Always."

Ryan lay down next to Connor and wrapped his arms around him. Connor snuggled in next to him and laid his head on Ryan's chest. He was all warm and comfortable again, and safe; he finally felt safe for the first time in weeks. Ryan leaned over and kissed his forehead before he drifted off into the most peaceful sleep he'd had in a long time.

FIN!

**A/N: OK, so what'd ya think?  Please review. I swear I won't be writing this stuff all the time. This was a big departure from my normal stuff, so please don't hold it against me.**


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